The Betrayal
by atrum infractus
Summary: After a heartbreaking incident, Alan is left to grieve and put together the pieces of Charlie's murder.
1. Prologue

**The Betrayal  
****by atrum infractus**

_**SUMMARY: **Things have changed for Alan. One night and its choices have changed his entire world. The only question is, will he forgive the man responsible for his own son's death?_

_WARNING: Character death._

* * *

Alan Eppes couldn't believe it- nor could anyone else. No one saw it coming- some even doubt the victim saw it coming. But it did come, and it had left the world (at least, the Eppes' world) in a chaotic state that seemed to have no solution. 

The few that could bear to look at the newspapers found themselves ignoring the bold headlines, most of which proclaimed "**Local FBI Agent Murders Mathematician Brother**", and featured a full-length article on the Eppes brothers. Aunt Irene, who loved gathering newspaper clippings with family members in it, was probably having a grand time snipping away at the papers, despite the obvious devestation.

Just a week ago, Alan's home would have been filled with the laughs and teasings of his two grown sons. They would have sat down for dinner together, celebrated another closed case, watched a baseball game...now it was all over. He would never see Charlie alive again, never hear his explanations for the universe...He'd never get another chance to hug his own son, or laugh over his horrible spelling. Charlie was gone, and there was nothing Alan could do to bring him back or rewind time. For the second time in two years, he felt the raw pain of losing a family member that was held dear to him, but this time was different. It almost hurt more because he never got to say good-bye like he did with his wife.

Then there was Don, who laid in another grave, next to Charlie's. Alan's own son...no. His son's brother had killed him in cold-blood, then turned the gun on himself. Alan had always worried for him in a way; all the things he had seen couldn't be drowned away in alcohol. But this was never what he immagined would happen...not in his wildest dreams.

"Alan?"

Alan raised his head wearily, expecting to see more people, bearing caseroles- he wouldn't have to cook for several years, with an empty house and a refrigerator filled with these caseroles. Charlie would have loved never having to cook...

But the man standing before him had nothing but a lot of notebooks, a few framed pictures, and a concerned expression. "I hope I'm not interrupting," said Larry, sounding nervous.

"Of course not," said Alan. "Come on in, Larry-"

Alan directed Larry into a chair on the porch where he'd been sitting a majority of that afternoon. Only when they were comfortably sitting did he notice that Larry was holding his son's things.

"Some people were trying to steal his notebooks," explained Larry. "Since the Eppes Convergence Theory was nearly completed...I thought I'd bring them to you for safe keeping."

"I don't want them. I can't understand any of that stuff."

"Just keep them," insisted Larry. "You may be surprised."

Alan agreed to keep them.

"He's gone, isn't he? Both of them..."

"He's not gone," said Larry calmly. "He may not be with us, but he lives on in memories. He always will. And so will Don."

Not for the first time, Alan wondered what memories the two brothers had shared that had lead to this devestation, and he knew Larry was wondering as well. The question loomed over them like a dark cloud.

* * *

Later on that evening, Alan flipped through the many notebooks Larry had dropped off earlier. Just as he suspected, the many numbers and symbols meant nothing to him, but some how, it was comforting to see Charlie's scrawl, and to be able to run his fingers over what had essentially been his son's life. 

Hours later, probably nearing midnight, Alan had discovered a slim black notebook that he couldn't remember ever seeing Charlie use. He opened it, and naturally, he saw Charlie's handwriting. Not really surprising, considering that these were his things, but what did surprise him was that this was in English. A quick flip through showed that there were no equations, and the only numbers in the whole book were dates- dates that stretched from the day after Margret had died to the very day of his own untimely death.

They were right there, right before him.

Charlie had left him the answers.

* * *

_A/N: I know this is somewhat out of character for most of you, especially for those who don't believe Don would ever hit Charlie, but there is a reason. Please review and let me know if anything should be changed, or if you hate it...whatever. Just drop me a line._


	2. The Day We Buried Her

_The funeral was today. A lot of people were there, most of them crying. I don't get why they were crying- I'd never seen half of them before, which means my mother probably hadn't seen them in years. Why would they cry for someone they didn't even know? Just don't get it...

* * *

_

Charlie Eppes pulled at his necktie. He swore to himself that he would never wear one of those things again after high school graduation, but what else should you wear to you mother's funeral? A black T-shirt?

"Here," came Don's voice. "Try this."

He held out a clip-on to his younger brother, who immedietely yanked off his tie and threw it aside, fastening the clip on in place. "Thanks," he told Don, breathing a sigh of relief that his breathing was no longer impaired by a piece of cloth that seemed to want to strangle him.

Don was silent.

It was to be expected. Their mother's body had been taken away two days ago, and all the happiness and a majority of the ability to speak seemed to go with her. How were they supposed to feel? Happy that she was no longer suffering, or sad that she was gone forever? Relieved that it was finally over, or wishing that she could be with them again, even if it was in pain?

He didn't know how his father or brother felt, but Charlie felt guilty. He wasn't there when she died, and he hadn't been there for most of the long road of illness. He had pulled away from her, afraid of being hurt. But the tears he cried for his mother weren't those of pain, like Dad's, but tears of regret. What hadn't he known about her? What was her life like before she was married? What was Grandma like before her face looked like an elephant? Mom would have told him, no doubt about it, but he never asked, and he never listened.

He didn't know which was worse.

The day passed like molassess in the wintertime. It felt like it would never end, but no one's mind was really there. All Charlie could remember of the event in years to come was being squished in between Larry and Alan, a lot of ladies crying, and his ancient Aunt Irene flinging herself on him, sobbing and sympathizing for him.

What he really remembered was the casket, and knowing his mom was in that box, sealed away from the rest of the world...

* * *

The evening after the funeral was much more clear. He was in the garage, working on some new equations. It felt scandalous at first- like he was retreating from pain, just like he had done while Margaret was alive, but once the numbers was all he was focusing on, he felt like he had entered a world of consoling oblivion.

"Charlie?"

_And x should equal the total- huh?_

"Don," said Charlie, dropping his chalk in his surprise. "What are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to talk to you- stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm either about to kill you or this is bad. You look like I'm going to declare war here..."

Charlie shrugged. "It's just that we don't talk much."

"No, we don't." Don collapsed into one of the old chairs in the corner, quickly almost completely hidden by a large cloud of dust. "I remember when Dad found out you converted his garage- when Mom and Dad were away?"

A reluctant grin pulled at Charlie's lips. "You almost destroyed the house, and we had the Winchesters' dog that whole weekend."

"Dog named _Houdini_," laughed Don. The laughter died quickly, though.

"Why'd you come back, Don?"

He'd made a bad choice for conversation direction. Don frowned and leaned forward in his chair. Finally, he stood and strode over to his little brother. "I made some mistakes, Charlie," said Don softly. "Stuff I never want anybody to find out about. But I'm here in LA now because I care about Mom and Dad. And you. "

Charlie felt warmed by these words, but in the back of his mind, a small voice that was quickly silenced managed to say "_Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"_

* * *

_A/N: The first italicized section will always be Charlie's journal.The rest is essentially what the journal talks about._


	3. What I Never Should Have Found

_I found an old box of letters that Don used to have. He must have left them here. They were pretty interesting actually, I'm wondering if Don meant to throw them out...

* * *

_

Charlie had not dared to take anything of Don's for a very long time. The days when they could just wrestle it out until the lesson was learned had been over for many years, and Don had learned the best way to keep Charlie out as teens was to physical force that the younger couldn't ammount to.

However, when Don moved out, into his own appartment, he had left a couple of boxes in the top of the closet. Charlie had found them when Alan had assigned him to clean out the room, and had stashed them away in his own closet for nearly a month. Today, however, Alan wasn't home. It was the perfect time to see if there was anything interesting within that box.

He lifted the lid of the smaller and discovered that it was crammed full of paper. A printed out e-mail lay on top.

* * *

**To: **Donald Eppes_  
_**From: **Nicole Davis_  
_**Subject: RE: Dinner**

Nicki,  
I was hoping you'd be up for dinner with me tomorrow night, since you just got out of the hospital. By the way, how's you shoulder?  
I need to talk to you soon, it's very important. Please call and let me know if you can make it.  
Don

Don-  
Thanks again for dinner. You've given me a lot to think about, and I've finally decided. What the heck, I'm in! I've included the numbers.  
Take care,  
Nicki

* * *

A list of seven telephone numbers followed that, none connected to names. Charlie vaguely wondered what his brother would need that many telephone numbers for; what had he done in Mexico, run a dating service? And what about this Nicki? Was she another girlfriend? 

Shaking his head, he continued through some more notes. Most said things like "Pick up beer for Friday" or "Stock up on chicken". Weird memos all single men seemed to need. However, far and few in between were some truly interesting things. Letters and printed out e-mails seemed to find their way in between the little notes.

* * *

_Don-  
__HUGE breakthrough. No need to press charges against Christopher Mandson, your testimony worked! They're letting him off, no fees and an official apology, and I couldn't have done it without you!  
__See you at dinner!  
__Will_

* * *

Christopher Mandson...who was Christopher Mandson, and what kind of fate had Don saved him from? And who was Will? Charlie searched his memories, and a few moments later, he managed to remember. _Will What's-his-name_. He had been a jerk, based on what Don had said about him during the occasional rant. Somehow Don had forgotten to mention dinner and notes.

* * *

_Dear Don,  
__I'm sorry, but I can't agree with what you're involved with anymore. I put up with it for a while, and I've kept quiet, but when I signed up for the FBI, I didn't sign up for this experience, and I know you didn't either.  
__I love you, Don. I hope you understand that I don't want to hurt you, but I can't compromise my position or support you risking yours.  
__I've gone ahead and packed up. I won't tell anyone what you're doing, but you can tell Will I'm out. It's not worth it, and maybe someday you'll realize that too.  
__See you around,__  
Terry_

* * *

Charlie stared at this bitter note, then suddenly gaped at it. _Terry?_ As in Terry Lake, the female agent Don seemed to get along alright with? What did he know about his brother after all? 

**To: **Donald Eppes_  
_**From: **Will Parker**  
Subject: Team**

Don-  
I know I've said things were looking good with just you, me, and Terry, but now that we've lost Terry, I'm not so sure. She was pretty valuable, and we need a third person. What about Nicki Davis? She seems like the norm. Maybe she'd be interested?  
I'll keep you posted!  
Will

* * *

_Nicki.._. The girl from the first e-mails...what was this about a team? Don _had_been in the FBI in Mexico, hadn't he? Did they break up into teams, or- 

Downstairs, the front door closed with a click, and Charlie quickly stuffed the box under his bed, throwing himself onto his bed and opening a book hastily. Just as soon as he caught his breath from the sudden activity, Alan poked his head into the doorway. "Just got back from the store. How about some dinner?"

"Sounds good, Pop. Be down in a sec."

But as he walked down the stairs after his father, his head was filled with questions without answers...but one clear thought registered. _"What the hell have I found?" _

* * *

_A/N: I hope this doesn't seem too slow, and I'm sorry about the e-mails, wasn't exactly sure how to format them (the original draft had adresses, but this computer hates me). The next chapters should be a lot more interesting. As always, please review!_


	4. What He Told Me

_So, it's been a few months since I found that box, and I think I've figured some things out. I got called out for the NSA, and that Will Parker works security for them..._  
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Charlie spent most of his time watching Will Parker when he was in the NSA building. Oh, he did his math, he ran the debriefings, he did his work, but it seemed that he was constantly seeing Will out of the corner of his eye. It was like being offered the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden- sure, he didn't want to get involved, but he just couldn't help it. Just like he couldn't help but wonder if maybe the security worker was watching him too.

Sadly, Charlie would never find out. He was preparing to leave, sliding his laptop into his messenger bag, not to mention collecting all of his pens and various scraps of paper he thought he may need. He was moving slowly, half-hoping to glimpse Will's wide smile once more, but he was dissapointed when he never showed up. For some reason, he had been convinced that Will was just as eager to talk to him as he'd been to talk to Will. Apparently that was not the case, so with a sigh, he shouldered his bag and flipped off the lights.

The NSA office was empty. Charlie thought mournfully of the somewhat inviting atmosphere of his brother's office back in LA; with the FBI, he always felt comfortable to comment on a picture on a desk, correct any mathematical errors, or just to wave hello to anyone. The NSA did not offer these amiable gestures, nor did they seem at all open to the idea. The only people Charlie saw on his way out were well-dressed people who may give him a curt nod if he was lucky- yes, he was definitely glad his consulting job was done.

By the time he reached the refuge of the parking lot (luckily for him, parking lots seemed universal, unlike government offices), Charlie had formulated a plan of his evening. Go back to the hotel room that had hopefully been cleaned by the maid, open up a Coke, call Dad back home to verify what time he would need to be picked up, then just lounge around the room at will. And sleep. God, he hadn't slept properly for the entire two weeks he had stayed here.

"Wait! Wait a moment, hold up, would you!"

Charlie turned to see the darkened form of a short and somewhat stocky man- _Will Parker_. He had to be yelling at Charlie, no one else was in this deserted parking lot.

"Professor Eppes!" The security worker was hurrying towards him. Charlie readjusted the bag strap on his shoulder as he waited for Will to catch up. "Professor Eppes, you walk pretty damn fast, you know that? Been tailing you from the lobby."

"I was in a hurry," explained Charlie, somewhat lamely. "Flight home tomorrow-"

"I don't mean to keep you, Professor-"

"Please, call me Charlie."

"Charlie," said Will with a funny grin. "Well, I'm sorry for keeping you, but I was hoping to get a word with you, ever since I realized you were Don's brother." He hurridly offered his hand to the other young man. "Dunno if Don's ever talked about me, but I'm Will-"

"I know," said Charlie, who couldn't help but grin as his hand was shaken vigorously. "I found a note-"

Will chuckled, running his fingers through his sleek blonde hair. "Don and I did our share of notes," he informed Charlie. "Surprised you only found one, we really ran up the paper charges that year, and- well, he never throws anything out."

Charlie gestured to his bag, which could hardly zip for the papers crammed around his computer. "It's an Eppes' thing."

The other man laughed. "Oh, good lord, you two are more alike than you know! I could just tell you were related to Don first time you came in. Damn, I've never seen anyone look so lost in thought before I met Don, and then you!" He shook his head, still flashing his white teeth in a smile. "Well, I think a lot of things must be an 'Eppes' thing', Charlie."

It was hard to believe this man wasn't a lawyer or a car's saleman. Charlie had rarely witnessed such an ammount of smiling and enthused talking coupled with hand gestures without money involved.

"So you know Don from work, I'm guessing."

"Oh, yeah, we go way back- to Quantico, actually. God, the guy is great, but he could be one heck of an idiot when he wanted to be. Never would have asked out a certain lady if it weren't for me, and may I say, he did really like her." Will winked, as in to let Charlie in on a good joke. "Of course, wasn't so good when they broke up, but I was always making him do stuff with me. Like the trouble-makers of the FBI-" his speech was punctuated with a laugh. "And they say that phase ends in high school."

A grin twisted at the young professor's lips. "You two sounded like you were good friends."

"Your brother," said Will, voice suddenly throaty. "Your brother- he's a good man. And I don't say it lightly, you don't know how many times he helped me. You should be proud."

Charlie had always been proud of Don. Whether it be hitting a homerun in a baseball game or arresting some dangerous criminal, he was proud of his big brother- he didn't need to be told to be proud of Don. "I am," said Charlie finally, not sure how else to respond- he was suddenly uncomfortable with this charismatic man. "Listen, Will, I really need to get go-"

"Say no more!" said Will, raising his hands in mock surrender, his serious tone lost almost immedietely. "I'm sorry for keeping you. And- Charlie? I wouldn't tell Don about us meeting up. We had a bit of a...well, a falling out. Nothing worth mentioning." He paused, his face lighting up with yet another smile. "It's been a pleasure, Charlie."

"Certainly has," said Charlie, shaking Will's hand again- or rather, Will was shaking _his_ hand again. "Maybe I'll see you around."

A shadow passed Will's face, and for the first time, his cheerful expression seemed fixed. "Maybe," he said finally, his voice odd. "Good-bye, Charlie."

Charlie waved a final good-bye to this man before turning to walk down the street towards his own hotel. His mind was buzzing with unanswered questions, but mainly, he just wanted to know who this man who claimed to be his brother was. Why didn't _he _know any of the things Will had talked about?  
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_Sorry for the delay, everyone! Hope it was worth the wait._


End file.
